


Get Your Hell Together

by Dangerously_Demonic



Category: Jurassic Park - All Media Types, Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Boom Headshot, But is it really murder if he's not human?, Decapitation, Dismemberment, Nerf plz, OP af character, RP related BS, murder spree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 17:30:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15999965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dangerously_Demonic/pseuds/Dangerously_Demonic
Summary: There's nothing some good ole fashion Murder won't solve.Title references "This is Gonna Hurt by Sixx:A.M."





	Get Your Hell Together

**Author's Note:**

> It's Murder. Except he turns into an Indoraptor on steroids, not that scrawny ass thing in JW: FK. Legit. Fucker is scary. And apparently the size of a small Allosaurus. I don't know, man. I've had two exams and a whole bunch of quizzes this week. I just wanted to write Murder wrecking some shit. One shot, could be turned into another story if there ends up being enough interest. Which, lbr: it won't.

The others on the island had all died in some fashion, either by years of genetic manipulation, starvation, or straight up cannibalism. He’d been considered both a success and a failure by the corporation that owned the island. A success due to his ability to withstand years of his genetics being unzipped, manipulated, put back together, and his sheer tenacity to survive anything they threw at him. Yet, he’d been stamped with the mark of failure simply because they couldn’t control him. Not exactly surprising when the genetics of the galaxy’s most dangerous creatures had been haphazardly shoved into the genome of a kid who’d been a little shit to begin with. The years of forced survival with grueling condition hadn’t done much to improve his desire to cooperate, either.

Each section of the island had been walled off with the central portion being a landing zone. It’d been designed to keep most things in and happened to be close to impossible to scale. The problem with that notion? Murder qualified as anything but ‘most things’. He crouched down and leapt up, sinking his claws into the crevices that made up the different panels and he began clawing his way up the wall till he perched precariously at the top.

Already, he saw the euthanasia squad making their way through the jungle towards his section of the island. Good. He’d be able to get a meal before he left. Turning, he sunk his claws in the wall and slid down to the ground. They’d designed him to be a killing machine, to be perfect, to be nigh indestructible. The perfect predator for the battlefield. They’d succeeded but he had a bad inclination to ignore directions, as he’d proven over and over.

Slowly, he crept through the jungle. Dark green striping over a dark brown base hid him well enough, but he rippled out of existence as he cloaked himself. It meant he had to move slower otherwise they’d be able to see his blurred outline, but he didn’t mind: they were walking right towards him. The only trace of his existence were the footprints he left behind as he circled around behind the group.

Despite being on all fours, he towered over them; the tallest only reached his shoulders. No doubt if he stood on his hind legs they’d be absolutely tiny. He swished his tail slightly and crouched down, closer to the ground. In front of him, one of the men had discovered his tracks.

“…I thought the intel said the fuck was contained in the northeast paddock?”

A second stared up at the wall and gawked at the claw marks that ran down it, then pointed. “It ain’t contained…And I think it’s bigger than we thought.”

The rest shifted their attention to the wall, unaware of him uncloaking behind them. One just so happened to glance behind him and screamed ‘contact!’ before Murder slammed his head into half the group, knocking them over. A second he simply bit in half, leaving the man to scream and claw at his entrails strewn across the ground.

He heard gunfire to his left and barely registered the dull sting of the impacts; they’d need something stronger. Another man dropped to the ground after a hand swipe resulted in a claw nearly decapitating him. Murder tossed his head and caught someone’s head in his jaws; the crunch of bone splintering delighted him. Although, he couldn’t say he particularly cared for the brain matter. The remaining soldiers scattered.

Snarling, he pushed himself up to his hind legs and charged after a trio. He didn’t pause for the first two and simply crushed them underfoot after knocking them down with his chest. The third he caught around the waist with his hands before biting down on his upper torso and yanking back, easily ripping the screaming man in two. Only then did he drop back down to all fours to have his meal.

Once he finished eating, he continued towards the landing site. While a full stomach soothed a good portion of his overall irritation, it did nothing to lessen his desire to kill the rest of the soldiers. The remaining ones had pulled back to the ship, seemingly wanting to drop their mission after suffering substantial losses. This meant he needed to get onboard the ship, because he’d be damned if he died here on the island.

As he got closer to the landing site, the jungle thinned out and while able to cloak himself, he still felt exposed. That being said, the junk and abandoned buildings looked like they’d provide decent cover…For a human, anyway. After hunkering down, he shifted back human and snatched up a metal pipe of some sort. It had a solid weight to it and he figured it’d do a nice bit of damage if swung with enough force.

Continuing on, he crouch-jogged his way closer to the ship, but suddenly pressed his back against some long since abandoned shipping crate as someone passed on the other side. Carefully, he peered around the corner at the soldier before creeping up behind him and swinging the pipe. It connected with a wet _crack_ and partially caved the man’s head in. Murder simply kept walking and left the body to lay in the rapidly expanding pool of blood.

Surprisingly, he found the landing area empty and guessed that most of the soldiers had already boarded the ship. This meant he needed to pick up the pace or risk being left behind. He broke into a jog and weaved his way through the rusted junk around him.

Someone behind him yelled for him to freeze. Murder stopped and slowly turned around to get a look at his soon to be prey. This resulted in him taking several rounds to the chest. While the grouping ended up being sloppy, it still hit several vital organs and he sagged to his knees from the pain. It should have killed him, would have killed him had he been human; he dropped the pipe and fell forward but caught himself with his hands. But Murder hadn’t been considered human in a long, long time.

His breath came out as raspy coughs and he tasted blood…Heard the blood dripping from his wounds and smelled the blood in the air. Steadily, the pain lessened and the flow of blood slowed. As a human, he didn’t have the benefit of thick skin, but he made up for it with rapid healing. Murder has been designed to be a super soldier after all…Couldn’t have expensive projects dying on the battlefield the first time they got shot.

“Yeah, I put six in his chest. He’s still alive, but I doubt he’ll be around for long. I’ll be up in a few.”

Murder picked up the metal bar and pushed himself back up to his feet. The God-awful sound of the pipe scraping across the cement caused the soldier to turn around. The noise of the pipe had been scary, but the sound of the gun clicking from being empty? _Terrifying_. Murder stalked forward and raised the pipe, then found himself amused at how the other man raised his arms defensively.

Rather than swinging for his head, he swung low. The pipe connected with the soldier’s knee with a crunch and bent it at an odd angle. The man fell backwards and landed on his ass, then tried to scramble backwards away from his attacker. Murder grinned and grabbed the uninjured leg to yank him back. Only then did he swing the pipe at the man’s head. The first blow cracked his skull, the second caved it in and exposed bloody brain matter, the third made him unrecognizable, and the fourth completely decapitated him.

Murder wiped at the blood on his face and simply smeared it around into a macabre warpaint. The radio at his feet crackled to life, demanding that its owner either get on the ship or be left behind. He made a quiet growl and tossed the pipe to the side as he jogged to the ship. Seconds after he got into the cargo bay, the loading ramp closed and he heard the unfamiliar sound of the ship’s engines kicking up. Faintly he heard several different voices and he gave a feral grin.

The hunting had only begun.


End file.
